


Putting you Back Together but Better

by TechieHux



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Clothed Sex, Denial of Feelings, Enforcer Hux, Force-null Hux, Kyber Crystals, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Power Imbalance, Promotions, Scheming, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, discussions of the Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-05 12:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16810633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechieHux/pseuds/TechieHux
Summary: There is value to Hux yet, besides being a minor nuisance and occasional source of entertainment. With a few… improvements, he could be ferocious on the battlefield, commanding respect and demanding it in turn.(Or: Supreme Leader Ren has an idea.)





	Putting you Back Together but Better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ReadyTakeTwo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadyTakeTwo/gifts).



Wind whips at Hux’s pale face, hard as ice, while his eyes glint just as sharp. The gel isn’t nearly as strong as the force of nature, and the stiff form of his hair has been done away with, strands of red wild. Each step forward sinks the black-clad Hux deeper into pure-white, thick snow. Around him, chaos reigns. The splatters of red from wounded, dying troopers mar the expanse of white.

“ST-4156!” Hux shouts, hoarse, but the rest of his command is lost to the swirling snow. This mission is destined for failure.

Ren knows. And still, he watches.

The planet is a board, each trooper a piece. Sitting upon his throne, Ren feels each individual life like the sleek strings of a marionette at his control. They’re tense, trembling.

The planet’s inhabitants know their way around the harsh terrain. For all Hux’s calculations, he is overpowered by sleet and snow. Ren sees the image as though it happens before him: Hux, squinting hard to shield his eyes while flakes fall onto his brows and translucent lashes. He’s trudging through the snow, blaster held tight in a bare, smooth hand and teeth grit to stop them from chattering.

Mission? It’s a _test_.

Another row of troopers falling like dominos. Hux, enraged, holds up his blaster and fires with ease straight ahead. Two enemies dispatched; one shot to the heart, one to the head.

Impressive. But not enough.

Just as fast, a single enemy comes up behind Hux and grabs him in a tight headlock. Hux seethes and points the blaster but it’s too late: more descend upon him and it comes to blows. They knock the small blaster out of his white-knuckled grip and beat him until bruises bloom on his body. Coughing up blood on his knees, waist-deep in snow, blood vessels in the sclera of his eyes popped… Hux makes for a pathetic sight.

Ren feels a twinge. Just a small one. Then he waves it away.

Hux fails, predictably. To repay an old debt, Supreme Leader Ren himself swings a frail, freezing Hux onto a broad shoulder and drags him to safety.

An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. A life for a life.

There is value to Hux yet, besides being a minor nuisance and occasional source of entertainment. With a few… improvements, he could be ferocious on the battlefield, commanding respect and demanding it in turn. The troops are loyal to him. They could be even more so if Hux were feared as a larger threat.

Ren keeps a live-feed of the medbay open in the background of his quarters. If Hux’s condition worsens, he’ll be the first to know.

* * *

The world comes back all at once.

A sharp, neck-clawing inhale and Hux returns to the land of the conscious. He sits upon the cot like breaking an ocean’s surface face first. The two med-droids at either side beep in alarm. Hux’s vitals were stable but now increase at a breakneck pace: blood pressure through the roof, heart rate racing.

“Where am I? What’s happened?” he demands in a tight, unused voice, fixing a glare with sweat-soaked brows downturned at one of the droids. The nearly translucent gown he’s been haphazardly dressed in rides up to his bare thighs, wearing even thinner in the spots drenched in sweat. Mortified, Hux pulls it down and manages to tear the gown.

Ren knew from the first irregularity in his vitals that Hux was awake. His light flickered and then grew ever-brighter.

In the middle of knocking his sparring partner to the next century, he’d taken off without a word and stalked down the corridors to the medical ward, following the path instinctively. Hux’s thread stretched out before him; growing less taut the closer to each other they got.

When he steps inside, and the doors slide shut behind them, Hux is sitting with a rod-straight back, steely gaze on Ren.

“Would you be so kind as to tell me what’s happened?” Still an asshole, Ren thinks, almost fond.

And then, equally as asshole-ish with a little flounce of his hair: “You were defeated in battle. I enjoyed watching you crumple to the ground.” Ren steps slowly closer as though approaching a wounded animal.

Hux’s skin is oddly colored in the artificial lights, made even more so by the purpling bruises. “Should have taken a holo and kept it,” he sneers, covering a wince when he turns to face Ren completely. The cot creaks under the shift of his narrow hips. The gown is so, so thin. “Wank to it on your off-shift, Supreme Leader.”

That startles a choked laugh out of Ren, who surges to cover his mouth and mask it with a cough. His mask was often hot and uncomfortable, but it was heaven-sent for avoiding awkward moments like this. Had he not been on heavy medication and probably concussed, this slip of the tongue would have earned Hux a speedy kick out an airlock. At least a good Force-choke.

Ren huffs and gives Hux a good once-over. His healing has been successful. Yet all this mess could happen again, so easily. For all that Hux is a skilled schemer, he’s Ren’s contrary, so opposed to the Force he’s not even null, but Force-repellant. With a roll of his shoulders, the Supreme Leader commands, “Once you’re able, come to my quarters. Comm me first; I’ll have something for you to attend to.”

Hux arches a brow and opens a cut on his forehead. His lower lip twitches, a controlled tremor. That one must have hurt.

“Consider it done,” Hux says breezily, “I will see you tonight.”

Tonight? So soon? He shifts his weight to lean against a wall, ignoring the beeps and trills of the obnoxious droid. It demands that Hux rest. No visitors allowed. A careless sweep of his hand sends the droid into the wall opposite Ren and it short-circuits before going up in flames, beeping mournfully. Hux’s eyes are glued to the droid, and he looks about ready to kick Ren out himself, a hot flush of fury creeping over his skin. Just then, the sprinklers turn on to extinguish the flame.

Hux says nothing. Just levels a look at him. The open derision prickles at Ren’s skin from underneath and he leaves quick as he arrived.

* * *

The minute Hux steps into the Supreme Leader’s quarters, wary, he sees him. Ren is sitting before the door on the ground, legs crossed, and eyes closed. His breathing is steady, shoulders relaxed. It’s the most at peace Hux has ever seen Ren.

Another step forward punches a wounded gasp from Hux, who despite still being badly injured came as soon as he could walk.

“Hux,” Ren says, soft, and slides his eyes open. They’re twin pools of ink.

Hux swallows and answers, “I came, Supreme Leader.”

“I wasn’t expecting you so soon. You’re injured still.”

Uneasy, Hux sinks his nails into a palm. Every nerve in his body screams, “Trap!” How wrong he is.

Ren stands up fluidly and stretches his arms over his head. His hair is damp. Running water is a waste of resources, Hux thinks, but only to mask the odd fluttering in the pit of his stomach. Instead of picking a fight, he points out calmly, “I am, of course, loyal to you and your orders, Sir. Ren.”

Where did that admission -lie- come from? Ren shakes his head slowly side to side, considering, and sends droplets every which way. They fall around his feet like a halo. “We’re not here to discuss your… loyalty, or lack thereof. My concern is your usefulness, General. The last mission could not have failed any worse. We lost half the troops. You came to harm and became incapacitated. We cannot let this occur again.”

He doesn’t say that the fierce rush of protectiveness is foreign and frightening. He doesn’t say that the next person to harm Hux will have their windpipe crushed. It… It’s unpleasant to think of. They’ve been working in close quarters for some time. To become attached is natural, isn’t it? Like an animal. Hux is a… companion. Useful, if trained.

Hux flinches and stands rigid, arms behind his back. A soldier’s pose. Defensive. “I will not fail you again,” he says. There’s something simmering under the surface of that statement. Ren reads it clearly: defeat, pain, loathing. The sharp tang of hatred pulls Ren back into his own mind. The inside of his mouth tastes like blood, without explanation.

“You’re correct,” Ren says. He moves towards the inner parts of his quarters, pushing open a door to lead into another room. “I will not let you fail.” It comes out quiet, soft. Too gentle. It must show on his face because Hux’s level of fear drops to the ground and he follows inside without much hesitation.

The mask. Ren needs it back. Desperately.

“How do you plan on doing that?” Hux asks, ever perceptive. Wheels are turning and only the Force knows how this will go.

Ren stops at the bare bedroom. Nothing but a sleek, black bed against the corner and long, white walls. The bed is unmade, pillows strewn on the floor. He sits on the edge of it, legs spread. In his casual attire and this intimate setting, Hux can almost grasp what it would be like to be a civilian with Ren. To live together and share domesticity.

The thought is ridiculous. Hux dismisses it quick as it comes. Nasty things, head injuries.

“Hux, I have a proposition.” The obscene spread of his legs and those words shoot liquid heat up Hux’s spine. It colors his face. In the low light, the growing flush would be hard to see. To Ren, the red on his cheeks is lit like neon. The more time they spend together, the easier the General is to read and that makes them both nervous. “I propose power in exchange for a moment of vulnerability.”

Hux scowls and refuses to come closer, frozen a foot away and gazing flickering between Ren’s lap and his carefully neutral face. “Explain yourself, or I’m leaving! If this is a game or trick-“

Frustration flares in Ren and he scowls, too, thighs going tense as he readies to leap up should Hux attempt an escape. “This is best for the both of us! You saw how easily they overpowered you. I can enhance your skills, craft you a weapon to give you an edge! All I ask is for you to trust me! Give me a moment of peace.”

“Trust you to wrap your fingers around my throat and toss me into a wall, isn’t that right?” Hux scoffs and whirls around to leave, but Ren grasps his upper arm and pulls him back. They stare into each other’s eyes, chests rising and falling hard with anger. Ren’s grip softens, and he runs his fingers over the soft, pale skin until it goosebumps under his touch.

“Never again, Hux. You know that.” They breathe harshly into their shared space for a long moment, warily watching the other. True to his word, Ren hadn’t laid a hand on Hux since then. Not even to caress, though the urge would sneak up on him in the dead of night, alone.

With a long-suffering sigh, Hux nods his assent. “I have no choice, do I?” he asks, not quite sullen. His heart rate has increased. Blood pressure, too.

“You do,” Ren insists. Those plush, down-turned lips will be the death of Hux. “But this is for the good of the Order. For your own sake, as well.”

Hux is trapped in the space between Ren’s thick, powerful thighs. Vulnerable just as Ren is, in this position. “I… Fine. Do your worst.”

He’ll be insufferably gentle just to bother Hux, then.

Ren explains: “I have a theory. We both know you have no skill in the Force, no claim to it. It can be used on you, of course, but… you may be able to repel it, and focus that energy outward instead of in.”

Hux, disbelieving, cuts in, “You mean like… a trampoline? The Force, when used on me, bounces back?” He laughs, ripped out of him unexpectedly, loud and shoulder-shaking. There’s an odd snort mixed in there and Ren’s chest seizes.

“That’s an odd way to describe it, but I guess similar to a trampoline, yes.” Ren’s hands have yet to move from Hux’s arms. They shift up to his shoulders and give a little squeeze. Not enough to hurt, but to work out a knot or two. He needs Hux open and relaxed for the next part. “Hux?”

The General, nestled against Ren and growing warmer, replies a light whisper, “Yes?”

“Let me look into you. Please… let me in.”

His sea-blue eyes dilate so quick that it makes Ren dizzy by proxy, caught up in the heavy haze around them. He feels the precise moment when Hux grudgingly drops his walls, going slack in his grip, and the sheer amount of trust and surrender is intoxicating. Ren’s eyes close, hands sliding under the greatcoat to coax it off Hux’s slender shoulders. It falls to the floor and Hux makes a noise of complaint in the back of his throat.

Ren floats it to the bed and Hux’s face once again slides into peace when he uses the Force to fold it neatly. Left in only a thin undershirt, the essence of his once-rival grows stronger. First Order aftershave never smelled so wonderful. He dips into Hux’s mind carefully, tender. It will do no good to hurt him. Not now, not ever again.

(For Hux has purpose. He can be wielded like a weapon, he can-)

He feels so warm under the rough callouses of Ren’s bare hands. “As I suspected,” he says, low.

“Ren, what do you…”

“You dislike the Force… Hate it. You don’t understand it.” He slides his hands up and down Hux’s sides, catching the edge of the undershirt with his pinky and dragging it leisurely up, torturously slow. Hux’s lids are lowered pupils fat.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Hux breathes.

“The Force resides within us all. The spark of life, of power. But not you. You’re a glorious void. Force-Null.” Ren straightens up from his hunched position and leans up, beseeching Hux to come closer. Drawn in, unable to resist their magnetic pull, Hux presses their foreheads together. “Your mind brings me peace,” he admits, quietly. Only between them. “All the people in the universe are so loud. Their latent Force-sensitivity is like a loud siren, a blinding light. You are darkness incarnate, still as night.”

Hux groans when Ren’s hands completely ruck up his shirt and expose the temptation that is his stomach, softer than it should be in a soldier and all the more delicious for it. He traces circles with his thumbs in the skin, up and up, until they brush Hux’s pink, peaked nipples and he gives a ragged breath. “Ren…”

“I can help you reflect the Force, weaponize the unique ability of absence you possess. Imagine the power, Hux…” He can see it now: Supreme Leader and Grand Marshall, an emperor and his knight. His.

He lets these images bleed into Hux’s mind, feeling the longing held tight in Hux’s long, lean body as the other man quivers, a string held taut. In the split second before Ren begins to speak once more, Hux presses his erection into the tight, hot junction of Ren’s thighs.

It’s inevitable. All of this. Pre-destined, Force-led. It must be, because Ren surges up to meet Hux’s lips in a bruising kiss and it’s like a collision of stars: heated, blinding-white behind their eyelids, and they part only to shed second skins. Hux’s pants, Ren’s shirt and boots, thrown aside.

They sink back together onto the mattress, with Ren holding Hux flush against his bare chest. With great difficulty, he pries their lips apart and pants, “You’ll be my enforcer. The weapon I’ll wield for my bidding. Your status, your power, will be aided by me and will be to _serve_ me. But you’ll like it, the thrill, the power, won’t you?” He takes a greedy handful of Hux’s ass, one hand on each cheek, and groans with lust. That tiny, perfect ass. Ren aches to spread Hux open and lick into him until he’s a boneless, whimpering mess. They could both stand to lose control.

“I want a promotion,” Hux says, breathless, and bends down to break the skin of Ren’s neck. “Help me gain this ability and I’ll be loyal to you. Want an officer silenced? Consider it done. What you want I’ll do, Supreme Leader.”

Hux, even aroused and leaking sticky pools of pre-cum onto Ren’s stomach, plots and plans. It benefits them both, this transaction. Hux will gain the ability to defend himself and attack using the Force, in exchange for doing Ren’s bidding. Ren will placate an otherwise disruptive force by lending Hux his own power, which he’ll be unable to use against his Supreme Leader. Evidently, they get a warm, willing body in their bed as well.

“All in good time, General,” Ren laughs. “I want to taste you first.”

Hux shifts to allow Ren over him, lips kiss-swollen, and he’s the most gorgeous man Ren has ever seen. Lithe and soft all at once, shirt rucked up and nipples peaked. A light trail of neat ginger hair that leads down to a hard, flushed cock that peeks out of his regulation underwear. Those ice-sharp eyes have absolutely _melted_ , smoldering from under lowered lashes.

He takes his time kissing down Hux’s pale, smooth skin. Extra time spent on those delicious little pink nubs; taking each into his warm, wet mouth and lapping at the sensitive tips. Hux isn’t loud with his pleasure besides gasps and pants, but his body betrays him with such visceral, obvious reactions that Ren wonders if he’s been touched like this before. If he hasn’t, he will be. Very, very often.

Before being able to reach Hux’s mouth-watering cock, Hux flips them over and crawls over Ren, angling his hips until they lay flush against each other. Ren’s still wearing his pants and they’re much too tight, to the point of pain. Hux undoes his fly and takes out his thick cock, holding it in his heated palm. He gives it a light squeeze.

Ren tosses his head back and nearly sobs. Hux isn’t stroking, just watching Ren like he’s a feast. It strikes him as ridiculous that Hux isn’t wearing anything but his underwear and fluffy socks and that the image should strike him as so erotic he wants to cum and cum _now._

“You’re so beautiful,” he moans, flexing his fingers on Hux’s hips. “Hux, can I-“

Hux hisses, “Yes! Fuck, Ren, _yes!_ ” 

“You don’t even know what I’m-“

“Yes, to all of it,” he grins, hungry, and slips down to take Ren into his mouth, stretching those pretty lips wide.

Ren shudders, swallowed up to the sensations, until Hux pulls off with an obscene slurp. “Power, Ren,” Hux insists. “Tell me of power.” Ren described him as a void, but there is fire to him. In the way he speaks, in his mind, the sharp lines of his fiery hair, the passion that drips from his every pore.

Lost to anything outside each other, Ren whispers filthy, grand promises into Hux’s ear until their violent orgasms sneak up on them; clinging to each other like a lifeline until the tremors subside and they sink into a sound sleep.

* * *

The next morning finds Hux dressing quickly while Ren watches from the bed, spread out leisurely and at last completely nude. Upon waking, they’d gone at it twice.

“Don’t leave yet,” he says, more a request than a demand. The sex has left him content and at peace. Hux meets his eyes while tugging his cap back on. They’ve hardened again, back to ice. “I have something for you.”

Hux crosses his arms and waits for Ren to lift a hand in the air and summon his lightsaber. The minute it’s securely in hand, Hux goes tense and shuts his eyes, lips pulling into a thin line. Old fears are hard to fight.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Ren says, soft. When Hux opens his eyes once more, Ren disassembles the saber in midair, each part separated as though it were a schematic in an educational holo. Residing at the center is a furious-red kyber crystal, chipped and cracked at an edge.

“That must be why your lightsaber is so volatile,” Hux muses, the engineer in his bones perking up. He will not be harmed today. “It’s chipped, Supreme Leader. Will you fix it?”

Ren sits up and shakes his head. “No. Watch, Hux.” A chunk is torn off the rest of the crystal right at the chip, leaving Ren with two floating pieces of kyber.

Intrigued, Hux steps closer. “Ren, what-“

He takes the severed piece and approaches Hux. They meet in the middle. Hux opens his hand at Ren’s request and the crystal is delicately placed into his palm. He curls his fingers around it and presses it over his heart.

This is an intimate gesture, surely. Ren doesn’t go about handing bits of his saber to just anyone. Hux’s mind is spinning, throat dry. What does this mean? Does Ren-?

“This crystal is bonded to me,” Ren murmurs, grave, and continues, “My Force flows through it. Call upon my power in your mind and you’ll be able to expel it outward at will. Protect yourself, Hux, and fight like the vicious beast you were meant to be. I won’t have you laying defeated on the ground again, ever.”

“I won’t let you down, Supreme Leader.” Hux clutches it tighter, knuckles going white. He’ll guard this with his life. It’s the key to his future, and maybe… _their_ future? After a beat of silence, he asks (because he _must_ know,) “You’ve slept with me. Will this continue?”

Ren smirks and tugs on his pants. “If you want it to. Don’t expect anything more than sex. You’ll be my enforcer, not my lover.”

Hux rolls his eyes. There’s something fond about the gesture. “There’s no reason to expect anything more, obviously. We don’t love each other and never will.”

They stay in companionable silence for a while longer, until Ren muses, “Perhaps I should get you a chain and have the crystal hang around your lovely neck, Grand Marshal.”


End file.
